


A Tale of Iron and Ice

by insomnia1999, Lets_call_me_Lily



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canon Divergence - Avengers (2012), Established Relationship, Frigga is a great mom, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Loki (Marvel), POV Tony Stark, Tony Stark watches too much Game of Thrones, Tony loves cats-even alien ones, caprbb2019, do not repost to another site, loki does not want to be king anymore, verging on crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:52:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomnia1999/pseuds/insomnia1999, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lets_call_me_Lily/pseuds/Lets_call_me_Lily
Summary: Loki had grown up knowing he would be a king someday. Odin had told him so often enough. Now King Laufey has died, leaving the throne of Jötunheimr open.All Loki needs to do is defeat every other person who wants it.His boyfriend Tony is less than thrilled with all this Game of Thrones shit. (It never goes well for Starks.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story for the CapRBB 2019 would not exist without the help of my wonderful artist [Lore](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lets_call_me_Lily) and amazing beta [Annerp](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Annerp). Thank you so much for all your help! You made this pinch-hit a true joy!

  


  


~ A few years ago ~ 

  


Tony pushed the armor harder, going for speed. Feeling the left boot repulsor stutter. The Helicarrier's engine had really done a number on the poor Mark VI. 

Up ahead the beam from Loki's device cut into the sky, tearing the fabric of space over Manhattan. 

“Sir,” Jarvis's voice crackled in his ear. “I took the arc reactor off-line, but the device is already self-sustaining.” 

Tony didn't answer, swooping around the pillar of fire. He _really_ hoped he'd live to see the scans Jarvis was taking of this.

“Shut it down, Dr. Selvig,” Tony barked. 

“It's too late!” Selvig crowed, his eyes the same manic blue Barton's had been. “It can't stop now. It wants to show us something! A new Universe!” 

“Okay...” Tony shrugged. He charged his repulsors to full power and fired. They cracked against the energy beam – doing absolutely jack shit. 

“The barrier is pure energy,” Jarvis said dryly. “It's unbreachable.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony rolled his eyes. He'd known that. Didn't mean he wasn't going to try. 

Movement caught his eye on the Tower's landing pad. 

Loki. Holding the scepter and grinning like a Cheshire cat. Maybe if he couldn't hit the device, he could take out the madman who controlled it. 

“The Mark VII is not ready to be deployed,” Jarvis warned him. 

“Skip the spinning rims. We're on the clock,” Tony said, touching down on the gantry. He kept his eyes on Loki, striding forward as the bots pulled off the suit. Up close, Loki looked worse than he had after Stuttgart – more brittle. Pained, somehow. 

They walked into the penthouse together, Tony quickly heading to the bar. He tried to act casually, ignoring the itch between his shoulders, expecting a blow that never came. 

“Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity,” Loki sneered. 

Tony slid the Colantotte Bracelets on, feeling safer already. Thank God he'd accidentally left them here when he'd stopped for a drink before bed. He was definitely going to have to think of a way to implant these things. You know, if he survived the next 20 minutes. 

“Uh... actually,” Tony looked up, meeting Loki's eyes. “I'm planning to threaten you.” 

“You should have left your armor on for that,” Loki said, gesturing with the Staff. 

“Yeah,” Tony reached for the Scotch. “It's seen a bit of mileage. You've got the blue Stick of destiny-” Tony squinted. Loki's eyes seemed to shimmer blue, just for a second. Huh. Maybe there was more than meets the eye here. 

“Would you like a drink?” Tony waved his glass, coming around the bar. 

He saw Loki twitch, start to bring the Staff up. That blue flicker was there, then gone again. The smile fell off of Loki's face and he looked... tired. 

“You know,” Loki sighed. “I think I would.” 

“Really?” Tony blinked. He took two steps backward, trying to recalculate. “What can I get you?” 

“Surprise me,” Loki deadpanned. He strode over to the bar and dropped the Staff on to it with a clatter. He slid onto a stool, then turned a bit, looking out the window. Probably waiting for his army of space aliens. Well, Tony needed to stall, too. At least until the Mark VII was ready. 

“All right,” Tony nodded, grabbing for bottles. He snuck glances at Loki while he worked, but so far he was just sitting, ignoring the Staff in between them. Tony poured the drink he'd mixed into an Old Fashioned glass and hesitated. Ah, what the hell. 

He reached below the bar and grabbed an orange, taking the time to slice a garnish. He threaded it onto a cocktail sword and dropped it in, then finished the whole thing off with a paper umbrella. 

He met Loki's eyes as he slid it across and caught the faintest hint of a smile. 

“Not poisoned, I hope,” Loki said, taking his first sip. 

“Not my style,” Tony wiped his hands on a bar rag. He felt the Bracelets vibrate. The suit was ready, but he didn't call it. Not yet. 

“You do have that,” Loki sighed. “Style. I thought I had it – once.” 

“Please,” Tony scoffed, fighting not to roll his eyes. “If there's one thing you have Lokes, it's style.” Loki shrugged, but Tony could see another of those faint, almost-smiles. 

“This isn't bad,” Loki took another sip of his drink. 

“It's a Dying Bastard,” Tony leaned forward, hands on the bar. “Since I added Bourbon. Otherwise it's a Suffering Bastard. Or I could add some rum.” 

“And what would that make it?” Loki took another sip. 

“A Dead Bastard,” Tony grinned. 

“How apropos,” Loki licked his lip and set down the empty glass. “Do you have any Absinthe? I can make _you_ a Death in the Afternoon.”

Tony barked a laugh. “Ah, Hemingway Champagne. Let me guess... you knew old Ernest?” 

“As a matter of fact-” Loki started, only to be cut off by a rumble of thunder. 

They both turned as Thor thudded onto the landing pad. Behind him air sleds were zipping through the sky, ugly purple aliens at the controls. 

“So,” Tony turned to Loki. “Should I give the speech? The one I practiced on the way over? “If we can't save it, we'll Avenge it, blah, blah...?”” 

“No,” Loki sighed, shoving the Staff toward Tony. “I don't think that will be necessary. But once we're done here, we do need to have a talk. About someone named Thanos.” 

“I'll find some Absinthe. We can talk over drinks,” Tony nodded, pushing the button to call the suit. 

  


~ present day ~ 

  


Tony let out the breath he was holding as the green light of Loki's teleport spell faded and their living room coalesced around them. 

Loki grinned down at him, looking as happy as Tony had ever seen him. 

“I can't believe you ate that,” Tony laughed, reaching up to wipe some whip cream off the corner of Loki's mouth. “How you got all those toppings on one crepe? It was just so, so...” 

“I believe the word you're looking for is delicious,” Loki sniffed, following Tony's thumb with his tongue. 

“I knew you'd like Tokyo,” Tony sighed. They'd both enjoyed it, despite the round of meetings Tony had to attend. At least they hadn't had to fly home – having a boyfriend who could teleport sure made things handy. 

“You were right,” Loki said, “Tokyo street food is-” 

He broke off, staring at something over Tony's shoulder, the smile dropping of his face. Tony spun around, hand up, his watch turning into a gauntlet. 

Sitting on the kitchen table was a wooden box, black and ancient looking. Dark runes were carved along its side. 

“Jarvis?” Tony called. 

“Sir?” Jarvis responded. 

“Where'd the box come from?” Tony's hand never wavered, even though the whole thing screamed 'ancient magic' and 'oh, hey, your mortal weapons are useless.' 

“Box, Sir?” Jarvis asked. “I'm afraid I don't see-” 

“No,” Loki took a step forward. “You wouldn't. It's fine, Jarvis.” 

“Lokes?” Tony lowered his arm, but left the gauntlet on. “You have a secret admirer? Should I be jealous?” 

“Hardly,” Loki scoffed, carelessly lifting the lid of the box. Inside was a scroll, more dark runes running across the paper. “It's from the King's Court. On Jötunheimr.” 

He picked it up, quickly scanning the document. 

“Everything OK?” Tony asked. He knew how much Loki hated everything to do with the world of his birth. 

“It seems my- It seems that King Laufey has died,” Loki said, voice flat. 

“Oh, hey-” Tony moved to Loki's side, unsure what to do. So many traps here- 

“They wish to know if I intend to renew my bid for the Throne,” Loki rushed on. 

“Bid for the Throne?” Tony frowned. He knew Loki had wanted to rule Asgard, but Jotunheim? 

“When I attempted to kill Laufey?” Loki waved his hand. “While Odin was sleeping and I was Regent.” 

Tony winced. Loki had told him all about it. How he'd taken over while Thor was exiled, only to be met with betrayal and treason from Thor's cronies. Of course, Loki hadn't been blameless, but still... he had been the rightful successor. The whole thing was a mess. 

“On Jötunheimr, killing the King is the usual method of ascending the Throne,” Loki continued. 

“So, wait, if someone killed him, why send you-” 

“Unfortunately,” Loki said sourly, “King Laufey has had the _appallingly_ bad taste to die in his bed - of Old Age.” He gave a fake shudder, and dropped into one of the kitchen chairs.

“Well, that was rude of him,” Tony called over his shoulder, heading for the bar and Loki's favorite brandy. 

“Indeed,” Loki sighed, re-reading the letter. “Now they shall have to find a king the old fashioned way.” 

“Which is?” Tony asked, pouring Loki a healthy glassful. He poured one for himself, too. It was shaping up to be a hell of an evening. 

“Trial by combat,” Loki muttered, squinting at the bottom of the page. “To the death.” 

“Oh, well, of course,” Tony nodded. “In the game of thrones, you either win or you die.” 

“At least there won't be any Starks playing,” Loki finally looked up, meeting Tony's eyes. He reached over and placed his hand over Tony's giving it a squeeze. 

“Yeah, I've seen the show – I know how well that goes,” Tony turned his hand to lace his fingers with Loki's. “The question is, are you playing? Is that something you want?” 

“Hardly,” Loki snorted, downing his drink. “I have over a dozen siblings. I'll let them squabble over it...” His voice trailed off, and Tony got a sinking feeling. 

“But-” Tony prompted. 

“If I say I wish to be a contender, I will be granted access to the palace,” Loki leaned back, eyes calculating. “For the duration of the contest.” 

“Let me guess,” Tony said. “There's something you want? Childhood mementos? Souvenirs?” 

“Of a sort,” Loki said evasively. 

“But you aren't fighting?” Tony pressed 

“Oh Norns, no,” Loki shook his head. “The last thing I wish is to be King of Jötunheimr. I'm happy where I am. Right here with you.” He gave Tony a smile, pouring him another drink. Then he waved his hand, summoning a jug of Asgardian mead. 

Tony sighed. It looked like he was in for a long night. 

“So, tell me about Laufey. And these siblings of yours,” Tony grabbed Loki's hand, pulling him toward the couch. If they were going to get shit faced, at least they could get comfortable and cuddle while doing it. 

  



	2. Chapter 2

  


Tony leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee maker to finish. He didn't bother stifling a huge yawn. Getting up early _sucked_. He'd much rather see the sunrise from the _other_ side. Too bad Pepper told him he couldn't take the suit. Then he could have slept in at _least_ another two hours- 

He saw a flash of green and spun around as Loki materialized in the living room. 

He was in his Jotun form, wearing what he'd said was formal court attire - which luckily for Tony was nothing but a fancy loincloth. His arms were piled high with books and scrolls and he had what looked like a short, brown, fur scarf wrapped around his neck. 

Almost instantly his skin began to change to pink, his eyes shifting from red to green. 

“Aww,” Tony called. “Don't change - I like you blue.” 

“Yes, so you've said,” Loki said primly, as his normal clothes formed around him. The fur scarf stayed wrapped around his neck. 

“And I meant it,” Tony pushed off from the counter. “You never have to change who you are for me.” 

“Mmm,” Loki hummed, and Tony knew enough to drop the subject. Someday he'd convince Loki there was nothing wrong with being Jotun, but it was going to take time to get past a thousand years of Asgardian bullshit. 

Loki sat down and started unloading his ill-gotten loot onto the kitchen table. 

“Have fun raiding the castle?” Tony asked, pouring two cups of coffee. He put an unholy amount of sugar in Loki's before setting it next to his elbow. 

He froze as Loki's scarf opened a huge pair of deep red eyes and blinked at him. It wound itself a little tighter around Loki's neck and made a rough barking noise. 

“Holy shit, it's alive!” Tony said. He didn't squeak. Genius, superhero, philanthropists didn't squeak when startled. 

“Yes,” Loki ran his hand down the creature, ruffling its fur. It began purring roughly. “It's a hellercot. Think of it like a... cat.” 

Tony took a step closer. He could make out four sets of little stumpy legs tucked up alongside it. “A cat?” He loved cats. Even alien cats. _Especially_ alien cats. “Can I touch it? I wanna touch it. Is it safe? What does it eat?” 

“Breathe,” Loki laughed. “Would I bring you something dangerous?” 

“It's for me?” Tony reached out and ran a finger over the hellercot's head. Head area. Whatever. It closed its eyes and the purring grew louder. 

“If you like it,” Loki said smugly. 

“It's so soft... like mink,” Tony cooed, petting it again. 

“Yes, well, they do raise the larger ones for fur,” Loki said gently uncoiling the hellercot from around his neck. “The smaller ones are kept as pets or to hunt vermin.” 

“Thank you, Lokes. Really. This is the best present ever.” Tony held out his hands and the hellercot delicately sniffed them, before bumping against them demanding pets. Tony was all too happy to oblige. After a minute it flowed out of Loki's hands, plopping onto the pile of books and paper. It curled up in a ball and closed its eyes. _OMG, Barton was going to be so jealous!_

“I'm glad you like it,” Loki smiled. 

Tony wanted to pet it again, but he knew better than to disturb a sleeping cat - or a Flerken, for that matter. Nope, better safe than sorry. He didn't want to end up like Fury. 

“Does it have a name?” Tony asked. 

“Not that I know of,” Loki stretched, hiding a yawn of his own. “We could call it pancake? Or crepe?” He tried gently pulling the papers out from under it. “What about krumkake?” 

“Too obvious,” Tony waved his mug. “So, did you find what you were looking for?” 

“I hope so,” Loki frowned. “This is the last batch. A few spell books, a magic scroll or two... and everything I could find that referenced the last two Asgard/Jotun wars. Diplomatic dispatches, treaties, personal diaries - anything besides official histories.” 

“Because you think Odin's still lying,” Tony sat down, leaning his shoulder into Loki's. If there was one thing he understood it was family lying to you. There was a pair for you... Odin and Obadiah, assholes extraordinaire. 

“Of course I do,” Loki narrowed his eyes. “The way the Jotun Court refuses to speak about how Odin came to find me? Why I'd been abandoned? They're hiding something – I'm sure of it.” 

“How was the funeral?” Tony asked. 

“Still going on,” Loki snorted. “For another three days.” 

“Yikes,” Tony yawned. 

“So,” Loki leaned his head onto Tony's. “Are you still up, or up early?” 

“Up early,” Tony groused. “I've got to be in Philadelphia later.” He sat up, turning to Loki with a grin. “Oh, hey, you're home. Now I don't have to drive!” 

“Is that all I am to you?” Loki sighed dramatically. “A convenience? Teleportation on demand?” 

“Please,” Tony snorted. “I just meant that if I don't have to drive _we_ can go back to bed for a while.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, giving Loki a cheesy leer. 

“Oh, well, how can I resist such a tempting offer?” Loki deadpanned. He stood up and pulled Tony out of his chair, sweeping him into a bridal carry. 

“Ohhh,” Tony sighed. “I love it when you man-handle me.” 

“Why do you think I keep doing it?” Loki grinned, looking slightly evil around the edges. The good kind of evil, anyway. Just the way Tony liked it. 

  


~ ~ ~ 

  


Loki was lying on the couch when he felt the pull and give of the magical barrier he'd placed around the Tower. He looked up in time to see the messenger box arrive on the table. 

He gave it a glance and returned to the book he was reading. He didn't need to know which of his siblings was now King or Queen. Let them have it. 

He wanted nothing to do with Jötunheimr, not since he'd found the truth. The scrolls he'd stolen had revealed more of Odin's lies. He hadn't been abandoned, left to die as a runt or a misfit. No, as Laufey's youngest son he'd been _given_ to Odin. A hostage for life, bartered to guarantee Laufey would never again rebel against Asgard. 

He fell back into the book and lost track of time, starting a bit as Tony swept into the room. He was deliciously dirty, his hair ruffled, Graphene the hellercot draped around his neck. 

In a word, his boyfriend was simply adorable. 

“Hey, snowflake,” Tony called, heading for the fridge. “I'm starving. Are you starving? What time is it anyway?” 

“Late,” Loki said, waving his hand to turn on the kettle for tea. He carefully set aside the ancient tome and went to join Tony. 

“It is 10 pm,” Jarvis supplied helpfully. “Sir has not eaten since breakfast.” 

“Well, shit. No wonder I'm hungry,” Tony backed out of the fridge, holding a package of cheese. 

“Here, let me,” Loki took the cheese away from him, reaching for the eggs. “If you try and cook we'll starve – or worse.” 

“Hey! I'm not _that_ bad,” Tony protested. He reached past Loki to grab the bag of carrot sticks. “Not my fault I had cooks growing up.” 

“As did I,” Loki snorted. “And yet, which of us can make an omelet?” 

“Your box is back,” Tony mumbled around a mouthful of carrot. “What's it say?” 

“I don't know,” Loki shrugged. “I didn't open it.” 

“Ah,” Tony nodded. “OK. Probably a wise choice.” He snitched a piece of cheese and gave it to Graphene, letting the hellercot lick it off his fingers. 

Loki stopped and glared at the box. He might as well get it over with. 

He flung open the lid and pulled out a scroll. It wasn't the official announcement he'd been expecting. He heard the kettle whistling but ignored it as he read the missive. 

“Well?” Tony grabbed Loki's favorite mug, dropping in his preferred evening tea. 

“It seems that Fjölsviðr has defeated Ifing and Geirröd. The first with the sword, the second in hand-to-hand combat,” Loki looked up. 

“So that makes Fjölsviðr King now?” Tony asked, handing him his tea. 

“No,” Loki shook his head. “Fjölsviðr has been challenged by Gjálp, Greip, and Utgard. So the fighting goes on.” He balled up the scroll and tossed it back in the box. The whole thing disappeared, back from where it came. Good riddance. He had better things to do. 

Like feed his hungry sweetheart. 

  


~ ~ ~ 

  


The next time the box arrived, he was a little quicker to check it out. Once again it there was no official decree. He took the paper down to the workshop, pausing to admire Tony working on Hot Rod, the Mark XXII. Probably testing the upgrades he wished to make to Colonel Rhodes’ armor. 

Dum-e rolled over, and Loki patted his arm in greeting. 

“Hey babe,” Tony called, pulling himself up. “What's up.” 

“I thought you'd find this interesting,” Loki waved the notice. “It seems Fjölsviðr was defeated by Gjálp, who was in turn defeated by Utgard.” 

“So, Utgard is King?” Tony squinted. 

“Alas,” Loki sighed. “Utgard cannot assume the throne – as my sister Greip's ice-beast has eaten him.” 

“So does that make Greip ruler? Or the ice-beast?” Tony grinned. 

“Does it matter?” Loki said dryly. “The beast would be the better monarch.” 

“Now, Lokes,” Tony leaned against the workbench. “Be nice.” 

“I have no wish to 'be nice,'” Loki snorted. “Not since I learned the truth.” 

“Yeah,” Tony stepped closer, pulling him into a hug. “It sucks. That was some straight up Theon Greyjoy shit. Laufey trading you to Odin as a hostage.” 

“Please stop referencing that wretched series,” Loki snapped, but he squeezed Tony tighter, ignoring the grease and oil. There would be plenty of time to clean up later. 

“Yeah, you're right,” Tony nodded. “That ending was shit. I could have written something better.” He pulled back, his face grave. “Do you think Strange would loan us the Time Stone? We could go back and fix it?” 

Loki knew he wasn't referring to the TV show. 

“No,” Loki snorted. “But I'd like to be there when you ask him. If nothing else, I can stop him when he tries to turn you into a toad.” 

  



	3. Chapter 3

  


Sadly, the next time his alarm sounded it wasn't the box returning. 

He felt the thrum of the Bifrost and grimaced. 

“Prince Thor has arrived,” Jarvis announced. 

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Loki said absently. He patted his hip absently, wondering if he should summon a dagger. He knew Tony hated when he got blood on the carpet, but sometimes Thor just _needed_ stabbing. 

He didn't have to wait long before Thor came barging in, barely taking the time to knock first. Wearing his armor, despite the fact that he could summon it in an instant no matter what he wore. _Ridiculous._

“Loki! Brother!” Thor boomed. “It is good to see you.” 

“Thor,” Loki said calmly. “What brings you? Is Odin finally awake? You no longer need to play King and are here to play Avenger instead?” 

“The All-Father still remains in the Odinsleep,” Thor reached over and hung Mjölnir on a coat hook as if it were an umbrella or ring of keys. Loki tried very, very hard not to roll his eyes. 

“Can I not pay my brother a visit?” Thor continued, eyes darting around the room. 

Even if he hadn't been a sorcerer, Loki could see it for a lie. 

“Brother?” Thor stepped into the living room and Loki could see him taking in the damage. The end of the couch looked as if it had put through a shredder. A large chunk of carpet was missing - right next to an untouched cat-tree. Claw marks littered the steel base of the coffee table. 

“Yes?” Loki moved to block him, but Thor pushed past him, following the damage into the kitchen. More claw marks were evident on the front of the fridge and the freezer drawer Tony had installed in the bottom row of cabinets. 

Loki sighed - it was a shame that claws meant to navigate ice tunnels were so hard on Midgardian houseware. 

“You know,” Thor grinned, “I missed you on Jötunheimr. The sixth day of Laufey's funeral rites – when foreign dignitaries were finally allowed to attend.” 

“Oh?” Loki leaned back against the kitchen counter. “What a coincidence. I left on the sixth day.” 

“Then you probably haven't heard,” Thor said gravely. “Duke Lafsi's pedigree hellercot has gone missing. Everyone was talking about it, although no one seemed surprised. It seems he treated it so poorly it's a wonder it didn't run off sooner.” 

Thor pushed on the freezer drawer with his toe and it slowly rolled open. Fog misted into the warm air, clearing to reveal Graphene sleeping on a silk pillow. It blinked awake, slowly stretching all eight of its little, stumpy legs. 

“Ah-ha!” Thor grinned, grabbing the hellercot. Graphene made a startled noise, digging all forty claws into Thor's armor. At least until Thor began roughly stroking it – at which point Graphene snuggled in and began to purr. The traitor. 

“Just put down the cat and tell me why you're here,” Loki said sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Ah,” Thor stopped petting Graphene and gently lowered it to the floor. “I came to offer you my condolences. On the death of Laufey and your... siblings.” 

A half-lie at best. Loki didn't know why Thor even bothered. There was a reason Loki was called Lie-Smith, and it wasn't for his ability to spin a tale. 

“Did mother make you come here and say that?” Loki narrowed his eyes. 

“Well, no, not exactly,” Thor hedged. “There's something I need to tell you.” 

“Tell me?” Loki stood up a little straighter. 

“Ah, well,” Thor waved his hand. “After Laufey's funeral, I stayed for the fighting. You missed some excellent battles by the way! Once it was... over... I was asked by the Council if I would bring you word-” 

“Norn's sake, spit it out,” Loki barked. “Did they crown Greip? Or just her ice-beast?” 

“Funny you should mention that,” Thor gave a very fake chuckle. 

Loki tapped his toe impatiently. He was beginning to have a very bad feeling about this. He darted to the wine fridge and pulled out a bottle without looking. 

“As you know,” Thor continued, “when Greip was challenger she chose Lini, her ice-beast, as her weapon. And as Utgard had no ice-beast of his own-” 

“He was eaten,” Loki took a pull of wine straight from the bottle. “I know!” 

“Yes,” Thor nodded. “It was quite a sight! But as Champion, Griep could not use the beast. She was challenged, first by Hrafni who chose magic as his weapon, and when Hrafni lost, by Þjazi, to a duel of daggers. Þjazi won.” 

“Well, that's all of them,” Loki waved the bottle. “Þjazi was the last of Laufey's legitimate children. There is no one left to challenge. So what does Þjazi wish of me? My head? My allegiance?” 

“Loki,” Thor took a step forward and dropped a heavy hand on Loki's shoulder. 

_Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no..._

“When Greip fell, the crowd was overjoyed. They finally had a winner! But the cheering covered the sound of Lini breaking his chains. The beast flew into a rage and thundered past the guards- 

“Shut up,” Loki snarled. “Don't say it.” 

“Eaten,” Thor said solemnly. “Swallowed whole.” 

Loki shook off Thor's hand and downed the rest of the wine. 

“Loki,” Thor said gently. “ _You_ are the last surviving heir. The Regent's Council summons you to claim the Throne of Jötunheimr. You are King now.” 

Loki shoved the empty bottle into Thor's chest, not waiting to see if he caught it. He spun on his heel and sprinted to the elevator. 

Without a word, Jarvis dropped him down to the business level. 

He found himself rushing into Tony's office, not quite knowing how he'd gotten there. 

“Loki? Babe?” Tony stood up, coming around the desk to meet him. “Hey, sweetheart – is everything OK?” 

Loki swallowed hard, pulling Tony into a hug. How could all his siblings be so stupid as to die? And leave _him_ as King? 

“Snowflake?” Tony asked softly, hugging Loki tighter. “Is Thor giving you a hard time? I can put on the suit. Punch him in the nose for you. Or get Bruce – you know the Other Guy loves to play whack-a-mole with-” 

And there, finally, a truth, even though spoken in jest. From the most _honest_ person Loki had ever met. 

He leaned down and shut Tony up with a kiss, Tony standing up on his toes to meet him. It was perfect. He just wanted everything to _stay_ perfect. 

Loki pulled away slowly, meeting Tony's worried eyes. 

“It seems,” Loki said flatly, “that all of my siblings have managed to kill each other.” 

“All of-” Tony narrowed his eyes. “So what? You're _King_ now?” 

“By default,” Loki sighed. 

“Is that what you want?” Tony ran his hands up and down Loki's arms. He waited while Loki thought about it. He didn't have to wait long. 

“No,” Loki shook his head. “I am quite happy here, with you. I shall simply tell them I am not interested. I have scores upon scores of _other_ relatives – aunts, uncles, cousins, illegitimate half-siblings. I'm sure they'll figure something out.” 

“Are you OK, though?” Tony asked. “I mean losing all your relatives, even if you didn't know them personally-” 

“I am fine,” Loki pulled Tony into another hug. This one so hard that Tony's feet left the floor for a moment. “Truly. But perhaps we could go to Rome for dinner?” 

“Oh, that little place? The one with the -” 

“Yes, that one.” 

“Anything for you,” Tony said, leaning up to kiss him. “Jarvis? Cancel whatever I had scheduled for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, too.” 

“And Jarvis?” Loki added. “Please ask Thor to kindly “fuck off” and that he should tell the Regent's Council to do the same.” 

“I will relay the message,” Jarvis said dryly. 

  


~ ~ ~ 

  


Loki heard a rap, tap, tapping and glanced out the window, squinting against the morning light. He shook his head sadly before rolling over and snuggling up to Tony. 

The tapping noise came again. 

This time it was Tony who looked up. 

“Lokes?” Tony cleared his throat and started again. “Is that Thor floating outside, knocking on our window?” 

“Mmhmm,” Loki mumbled. 

“Is this a brother thing?” Tony asked, sitting up for a better look. “Or a voyeur thing? Not that I'm kink-shaming, but you know, informed consent from all-” 

Loki pulled Tony back under the covers and waved a hand, pulling the curtains closed and throwing the room back into darkness. 

“He wants to talk to me,” Loki muttered into the back of Tony's neck. “I have been ignoring him. For three weeks now.” 

“So now he's knocking on our window?” Tony asked. 

“So it seems,” Loki grinned. 

“OK,” Tony shrugged, snuggling backward, a happy little spoon. 

“I beg your pardons, Sirs,” Jarvis said a few minutes later. “But Agent Barton is requesting your presence on the common floor.” 

“Is Thor with him?” Loki sighed. 

“I'm afraid I have been asked not to say,” Jarvis said blandly. 

“That's a yes,” Tony groaned. “Lokes?” 

“Oh, all right,” Loki growled. “I suppose I can't avoid him forever.” 

“Well we _can_ ,” Tony shrugged. “We'll just have to start being creative about it.” 

Loki threw off the covers, pulling his clothes around him. 

“I wish you'd teach me that trick,” Tony groused, heading for the closet. “Save me so much time in the mornings.” 

“I can if you want,” Loki said. “If you start studying now, you should have it in a few years. It's a simple spell.” 

“Like I don't have enough to do,” Tony laughed. “Maybe when I retire... then you can make me a sorcerer.” 

Thor was waiting as soon as the elevator doors opened on the common floor. Loki took a moment to look him up and down. He had rarely seen him so frazzled. 

“Loki, please,” Thor threw up a hand. “Please hear me out.” 

Loki brushed past him to where Clint was sitting on the kitchen counter. 

“You wanted to see me?” Loki arched an eyebrow. 

“Hell, no,” Clint snorted. 

“So you sold us out?” Tony yawned, pulling the coffee pot out of Clint's hands and taking a huge swallow. 

“You betcha,” Clint nodded. “One, I still owe you.” He pointed at Loki. “And two, Thor gave me money.” He held up a gold coin and spun it, making it disappear in and out of his fingers. 

“I've got money,” Tony drawled. 

“Can I have some?” Clint flipped off the counter and grabbed a coffee mug. He held it out to Tony hopefully. 

“Sure,” Tony shrugged. “How much do you want?” 

“Loki,” Thor shoved his way into the kitchen. “This is important! The Realms will soon be at War!” 

Everyone stopped and turned to Thor. 

“War?” Loki squinted. For once, Thor's words had the ring of absolute truth. 

“When you refused the Throne,” Thor rushed on. “Jötunheimr fell into chaos. The Regent Council dissolved. The Noble houses fell into factions. Everyone has put forth their own candidates, each worse than the last. They have forgone the ancient rites of trial by combat and have fallen into civil war.” 

“Shit,” Clint muttered. “All that 'cause Loki won't be King?” 

“Aye,” Thor rubbed his forehead. “And worse, the conflict threatens to spill across the rest of the realms. Loki please, you must help me stop this.” 

  



	4. Chapter 4

  


Loki sighed, moving to sit at the table. The situation couldn't be that bad. Not in just five weeks time. 

“At least come to Jötunheimr. See for yourself-” Thor started. 

“Tell me, Thor,” Loki said slowly. “Do you enjoy being King?” 

Thor leaned back against the counter, crossing his tree-trunk arms. Another silly affectation – he would be just as strong if he never lifted another weight in his _life._

“I don't see-” Thor began. Loki glared him into submission. 

“No,” Thor sighed. “I do not. But it is my duty! While Father sleeps-” 

“Yes, duty,” Loki said sharply. “Always duty for the Odinsons.” 

Tony dropped into the seat next to him, sliding him a cup of coffee. Loki took it, grateful for something to hold onto. 

“When did you find out?” Loki tipped his head, meeting Thor's eyes; waiting for the lie. 

“Brother?” Thor asked, puzzled. 

“Surely you must know,” Loki said flatly. “That I wasn't abandoned. I wasn't a _foundling._ In exchange for his life and his Throne, Laufey sold me to Odin. To be raised in Asgard, to grow up faithful to Odin. A loving and devoted Son. And once Laufey died, to be set on his throne as one of Odin's puppets.” 

Under the table Tony gripped Loki's knee, squeezing gently. Loki dropped his own hand to cover it. 

“Loki-” Thor took a deep breath. “You are my brother. You have always been my brother. How you came to be in Asgard makes no difference-” 

_No difference?_

Before he could throw the dagger in his hand, Clint jumped up and perched on the counter next to Thor. He swung his feet, banging his heels into the cabinet. 

“Oh, man,” Clint said brightly. “That sucks. Hey! I know. Let's organize a 'Our Dads were Ginormous Bastards' Club.” 

“Oh! oh!” Tony waved his hands. “Can I be president?” 

“Nah,” Clint shook his head. “I think that should be Bruce. Or Nat. Maybe Quill?” 

“Right, right,” Tony nodded. “Wait - did _any_ of the Avengers have good parents?” 

“Steve and Bucky,” Clint ticked off his fingers. “Parker of course. Kamala, Sam Wilson... Let me think...” 

Thor frowned, not meeting Loki's eyes. He looked like a scolded puppy. Loki set the dagger aside. Someday, Thor would realize the _All-Father_ considered _everyone_ a pawn. He just hoped he'd be there to see it. 

Loki closed his eyes for a moment and took a long drink of coffee. If he could just delay and distract Thor, it might give another contender time to emerge... 

Next to Thor, Barton flipped the gold coin, walking it across his knuckles. 

“Thor?” Loki cleared his throat. “Perhaps I might be persuaded. For the right consideration.” 

Thor looked up, the thunder clearing from his face. They both knew how this game was played. 

“How many favors?” Thor grinned. “For you to come to Jötunheimr?” 

“Ten,” Loki leaned back in his chair, throwing an arm around Tony. 

“Two,” Thor countered. 

“Eight.” “Three.” “Seven.” “Five.” Clint's eyes darted between them as if he were at a tennis match. 

“Six,” they both spoke at once. 

“All right brother,” Thor said, relieved. “Go ahead.” 

“First,” Loki held up a finger. “You will rescind the vow you made me swear and _finally_ confess that _you_ were the one who cast the spell that ruined Sif's hair.” 

He leaned his head toward Tony and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. “He botched the spell so badly it was a wonder I was able to restore her hair at _all_ , never mind the color.” 

“Done,” Thor waved a hand. “I'm sure she's over it by now.” 

Loki was _very_ sure she wasn't. Recovering from his wounds would certainly slow him down. 

“Second,” Loki smirked. “You will travel throughout the Realms and on every world with mass media, you will proclaim that I, Loki, am an amazing, brilliant, truly wonderful person. A much better King than you will ever be. Then you will confess that _you_ are a...” 

Loki trailed off, searching for the right insult. There were just so many _choices._

“Oh, oh!” Clint raised a hand. “My brother and I do this all the time. How about “I am a warthog-faced-baboon?” 

“The definition of the word idiot?” Tony said thoughtfully. 

“A cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit?” Clint chanted quickly. 

Tony gazed up at Clint in awe. “What's that from?” 

“ _Christmas Vacation_ ,” Clint shrugged. 

“Yes,” Loki pointed at Clint. “That one.” 

“Oh!” Tony sat up straighter. “It has to be primetime, too. None of those late night infomercials.” 

“Fine,” Thor huffed. “I will proclaim your greatness and my insignificance to the galaxy. Happy?" 

“Ecstatic,” Loki deadpanned. “Third – you will cut your hair. Today.” 

“My hair?” Thor's face grew panicked. He reached up and clutched a lock in his hand. “Not my hair. Brother, _please._ Pick something else...” 

“You have worn it that way for 300 _years_ ,” Loki narrowed his eyes. “I am tired of looking at it.” 

“Hey, babe?” Tony leaned in to whisper into Loki's ear. “Make him go to the barbershop downstairs. Ask for Stan. He used to cut my dad's hair, back in the day.” 

Loki shrugged. He had no idea what it meant, but knowing Tony it was sure to be something Thor would hate. 

He relayed the message to Thor, who ground his teeth but nodded. 

Loki fought to keep from laughing. This was so much more _fun_ with an audience. Which reminded him... 

“Fourth, I want control of the Royal Players. Every year we will perform a play about me – that I will write – on Asgard's new national holiday, called Lokisday.” 

“Oh my god,” Clint laughed. “That is too awesome. Can I have a holiday too? I want a holiday named after me.” 

“I just want front row seats,” Tony said. “You can keep the holiday.” 

Loki paused. There was something he _truly_ wanted. How many times had he begged Odin? But while Odin slept, Thor was King... 

“You will return Sleipnir to me,” Loki said flatly. 

“Wait,” Clint cocked his head. “Isn't that the horse that-” 

“If you say 'gave birth to,'” Loki narrowed his eyes, “I shall turn you into a rat and feed you to Graphene.” 

“Lokes, hey,” Tony threw his arms around Loki and pulled him close. “No one thinks that. We all know those myths are shit. Like ancient tabloids.” 

Loki turned to Tony. “I raised Sleipnir from a foal. For years he was mine. And then _Odin_ -” 

“He is yours,” Thor said quietly. “He should have been returned long since.” 

“We'll build him a stable,” Tony waved his free hand. “Next to the compound upstate! He'll love it!” 

Clint cleared his throat. “I wasn't going to say that... thing... about your horse. Honest. And that's fucked up, that Odin stole him from you.” 

Loki sighed, waving his hand to refill his cup. He would finally, finally have Sleipnir back. And with the Avengers nearby, Odin would never take him again. 

“Brother?” Thor leaned forward. “You have one more.” 

Loki took a long drink and paused to think. What else could he ask? 

“Hey!” Clint pointed at Loki. “As long as you're giving stuff away, remember that you owe me.” 

“And a _gift_ will erase my debt?” Loki sighed. “Really?” 

“It would if it was one of those Flat Cats,” Clint nodded. 

“Yeah,” Tony winced. “They're kinda high maintenance. Organic, grain-free cat food, special ice beds. Not to mention the furniture. And what about Lucky? What would he think?” 

“Oh, good point,” Clint scratched his nose. “I'll have to think about it.” 

“Loki?” Thor prompted. “Your last wish?” 

Loki turned to Tony who just shrugged. He didn't want to waste his last boon- 

“Tell him to find the Holy Grail,” Clint suggested. “That's always a classic.” 

“The Holy Grail?” Thor asked. “What is that?” 

Clint's mouth dropped open. “You haven't seen- I mean, just so _many_ movies. _Holy Grail, Last Crusade, Excalibur..._ ” 

“ _The Da Vinci Code_ , that episode of 'Babylon 5,'” Tony added. 

He and Clint both began to grin. 

“Breakfast Movie Marathon!” Tony declared. “Jarvis! Order up everyone's favorites from that diner. You know the one.” 

Clint sprang off the counter and grabbed Thor's arm, dragging him toward the living room. 

It seemed Loki's last request would have to wait. 

  


~ ~ ~ 

  


Loki blinked awake, startled by the soft sound of the alarm. He knew he hadn't set one. Tony had drifted in late and they'd planned to sleep in. 

“Jrvss?” Tony mumbled. 

“Excuse me, Sirs,” Jarvis said crisply. “I know you did not wish to be disturbed. But Queen Frigga is here. I took the liberty of letting her in. She is currently in the kitchen.” 

“Your _mom_?” Tony's eyes shot open and he clutched Loki's arm. “Why is your mom in our kitchen!?” 

“I don't know,” Loki hissed, jumping out of bed. “Perhaps Thor sent her?” 

“You think?” Tony ran for the bathroom. “Shit, shit. I look like hell. How can I meet your mom-” 

Loki waved a hand, spelling Tony's beard and hair into perfection. 

“Ooo,” Tony said. “That's handy. Maybe I _should_ learn some magic.” 

“Get dressed,” Loki snapped, already waiting by the door. 

“Right, right,” Tony said, heading for the closet. “Sorry. No coffee yet.” 

Loki fixed his hair, then fixed it again. His mother hadn't come to Midgard in over a thousand years. To show up now- 

Tony jogged over, wearing a t-shirt and blazer. “How's this?” 

“Fine,” Loki took a deep breath. “We'll be fine.” 

When they got to the kitchen Loki couldn't help but smile. His mother was making tea, as comfortable in their kitchen as her own. 

“Mother?” Loki called. 

“Loki, sweetheart,” Frigga swept him up in a hug. Loki closed his eyes, hugging her back. He'd forgotten the smell of her perfume. He let her hug him for much too long. 

“Mother,” he said when he finally pulled away. “I'd like you to meet-” 

“Tony,” Frigga said warmly, pulling Tony into a small hug of his own. “It's nice to finally meet you.” 

“Ah,” Tony looked startled. “Yeah, yes. You too, Your Majesty.” 

“Please,” Frigga stepped back. “Call me Frigga. I've heard so much about you, I feel I know you already.” 

“Um, yeah, me too,” Tony smiled. “So what brings you-” 

An eerie growl cut through the air, scaling higher and higher into a weirdling yowl. 

Graphene was at the patio door, puffed up as large as possible, threatening the enormous cats on the other side. 

Tony _almost_ succeeded in stifling a squeal when he saw the pair of tiger-sized silver tabbies. 

“I see you borrowed Freyja's chariot,” Loki said dryly. 

“Yes, well,” Frigga waved a hand. “If I'd used the Bifrost everyone would know. This way-” 

“You could keep your visit a secret,” Loki finished. 

“Yes,” Frigga said. “You know how your Father is about me leaving without a guard.” 

“And how is Odin?” Loki asked, just a bit sharply. 

“Still sleeping,” Frigga said calmly. “I am not sure if he will wake at all.” 

Tony stood to the side, fidgeting, obviously wanting to cross to Loki, yet afraid to interrupt. 

“Tony,” Frigga reached over and took his hand. “I know it is rude of me. But could I have a few minutes alone with my son?” 

“Umm,” Tony looked over, meeting Loki's eyes. “Lokes? Is that-” 

“It's fine,” Loki waved a hand. “If you want, you can pet Bygul and Trjegul. They are quite friendly.” 

“Are you sure?” Tony hesitated. 

Loki nodded. He might have been able to distract Thor. His mother was another matter entirely. 

“All right,” Tony said, edging toward the door. “But we're all going to breakfast before you leave. Right? Right.” 

They both watched as he edged Graphene out of the way and slipped out onto the patio. 

“Loki, I know Thor has told you-” 

“I will _not_ be king,” Loki said, setting the teapot sharply on the table. “You cannot make me.” 

“We must all do what duty demands of us,” Frigga said gently. 

“You do remember what happened the last time I tried to be King?” Loki sat down heavily, reaching to pour the tea. Not meeting his mother's eyes. 

“Loki,” Frigga sat down next to him and laid a hand on his arm. “I am so sorry. For that, and all that followed. You know I am.” 

Loki swallowed hard. 

“I found the papers you know,” Loki said quickly. “And it... It irks me that this was Odin's plan all along. Raise me as his own, demand Laufey install me as king. He thought he would hold sway over Jötunheimr through me. A son on each throne...” 

He looked up to meet Frigga's eyes. He knew she could hide the truth when she wished. She had the skill. But he hoped, he prayed she wouldn't. 

“In the end, he didn't go through with it,” Loki said. “He never called on Laufey to name me his heir. He let Laufey die, the throne unclaimed...” 

“I asked him not to,” Frigga said firmly. “I insisted. It was enough that you were my son. You didn't need to be anything else. I wanted you to find your own destiny.” 

“My destiny,” Loki swallowed the lump in his throat and barked a laugh. “Well, look where the universe has brought me.” 

“I don't know,” Frigga looked pointedly out the door. Tony was draped over Bygul, using both hands to scratch along the cat's massive jaw. “You seem to have done well for yourself.” 

“I meant-” Loki started. 

“I know what you meant,” Frigga said sternly. “Loki. Be King. Take control. Innocent people are dying. But if you don't want to stay, then don't. Find someone trustworthy to take your place. Because the Regency Council won't.” 

“You disapprove of the Council?” Loki narrowed his eyes. 

“Oh, yes,” Frigga sipped her tea. “Evil men making wicked plans. Be careful of them. They will want you gone, so they can put one of their own on the throne.” 

“Someone who wasn't raised Aesir,” Loki snapped. 

“No,” Frigga said sharply. “Someone who isn't a good man.” 

Loki blinked hard, before giving up and wiping the corner of his eye. 

“Of course,” Frigga continued lightly, “You _do_ need to stop tormenting Thor. I think he has learned his lesson.” 

“I make no promises where Thor is concerned,” Loki sniffed, but was happy to return his mother's smile. 

“So,” Frigga dusted off her hands. “I shall send word to Jötunheimr that you wish to claim the throne and that they should make arrangements immediately.” 

“As you wish,” Loki said. “And thank you.” 

Frigga reached for the teapot and paused, looking out the door. 

“Is he all right?” 

Loki glanced at the patio. Tony was lying on top of Bygul, both of them trapped under Trjegul in one enormous cat pile. 

Loki picked up the pot and refilled their cups. 

“Oh, absolutely, I would say so.” 

  



	5. Chapter 5

  


Tony banked around the Tower, and there he was. Loki, standing in almost the exact same spot as he'd been that first day when Tony had offered him a drink. 

Things had certainly come a long way since then. 

He touched down gently, flipping up his faceplate and giving Loki a grin. 

“So, you ready for this?” Tony asked. 

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Loki said ruefully. He took a deep breath, letting his clothes fade away, replacing them with that fancy loincloth and sash. Then he turned blue, the lines on his skin looking more grey than black in the bright sunshine. 

Tony wished Loki felt more comfortable talking about his Jotun heritage. Were those tattoos? Something he was born with? Were they random or did they have some deeper meaning? 

He hoped he'd find out someday. 

Loki reached over and took Tony's gauntleted hand in his own. 

“Look!” Tony waved his other hand. “Matchy-matchy! And yes, before you ask, this suit has always been two shades of blue.” 

“I am aware,” Loki rolled his eyes. “You designed the Mark 14 for Arctic work. Although why you didn't paint it your normal colors eludes me.” 

“Hey! I like blue,” Tony protested. He made a show of looking Loki up and down. “I especially like it on you.” He waggled his eyebrows and leered. 

Loki shook his head, but Tony could tell he was amused. 

“Ready?” Loki asked. Tony nodded, dropping his faceplate. The green of the teleport spell spun up around them and the Earth exchanged itself for Jotunheim. 

The first thing Tony noticed was how dark it was. Darker than any night on Earth, despite the starlight reflecting on the ice. He wondered just how far they were from the sun. 

He could feel the wind buffeting the armor and he bumped up the suit's heater, even though he wasn't actually cold. He glanced at the temperature gauge. -98Cº. Well, that was brisk. 

Loki stood next to him practically naked, totally unconcerned. Well, about the weather anyway. His deep red eyes were locked on the massive building in front of them, a fortress of stone and ice. A pair of ice-beasts flanked the entrance way, but otherwise, there wasn't a creature in sight. 

“So, no one's here to greet their king?” Tony twisted toward Loki. 

Loki blinked, tearing his eyes away from the fortress. “I am not yet king. Not until I am crowned by the Council.” 

“Yeah,” Tony shrugged as much as the suit allowed. “But you'd think-” 

“All contenders for the throne must walk the path alone.” Loki turned to face him. In the dim light, his black markings looked deep, like channels carved into his skin. 

“But I'm here,” Tony waved his free hand. 

“Yes, yes you are,” Loki almost smiled. 

Together they walked through the wind and ice into the palace. The huge vaulted ceilings were open at the top and fine snow crunched underfoot. 

Loki led them to a huge pair of iron-bound doors and hesitated. 

“Lokes?” Tony squeezed Loki's hand. 

Loki nodded, standing taller, his face going haughty and regal. A prince about to become a king. He brought Tony's hand up and gently kissed the gauntlet. 

Loki dropped Tony's hand and pushed open the double doors. And hey, here's where all the people were. Rank upon rank of Jotun nobles, seated in a huge amphitheater. Loki strode across the vast open arena, toward the giant throne of ice at the end. 

Seated beside the throne were five Jotuns. Their sashes were red with white stripes – the Regency Council he'd heard so much about. 

Loki walked to the foot of the dais and bowed to the empty throne. He took a deep breath and began to speak. 

“I am Loki, last true-born child of Laufey and Fárbauti, and I declare my right to be king!” 

One of the Council members shuffled forward, putting himself between Loki and the throne. 

“You may be Laufey's son,” the spiky-faced Jotun sneered. “But you are not one of us! Begone, go back to Asgard where you belong!” 

“You have no right to keep me from my throne, Duke Lafsi,” Loki said firmly. “Step aside.” 

“I shall not,” Lafsi said, pointing his staff at Loki. Tony tensed, waiting for it to shoot magic or something. 

The rest of the councilors rose from their chairs. 

“I say you are unworthy,” Lafsi roared. “As was done in days of old, as is done today, I say you must fight for your right to be king!” 

Tony rolled his fingers, charging up the gauntlets. Loki had explained all this to him, and that right there was _bullshit._

Silent up until now, the crowd began to murmur. 

“You have no right to request combat,” Loki scoffed. “But even if you did, who would I fight? My cousins? My great-aunt?” He waved a hand toward the bottom row of seating. “Very well. Pick which one you wish to die.” 

“So you accept? You will fight to the death for the throne?” Duke Lafsi's face lit up, his little red eyes squinting in glee. Tony was starting to get a bad feeling about this. 

“I do,” Loki frowned. “Did I not just say so?” 

Lafsi slowly raised his staff, then swung it to point straight at Tony. 

“Then I choose... _Iron Man_ as your challenger!” 

“Say what now?” Tony took a step back. Well, he hadn't seen that coming. 

Beside him Loki went still, magic sparking at the tips of his fingers. 

“You are aware that Iron Man is my consort?” Loki said coldly. 

The murmur of the crowd turned into a roar. The councilors, however, didn't look shocked. They'd known all along. 

Tony scowled, sorry no one could see it through the suit. 

“Well, Iron Man,” Lafsi sneered. “Do you decline the honor?” 

Tony looked at Loki, who was shaking his head. He wanted Tony to say no. But it was pretty clear Lafsi wanted that, too. There must be something else going on here. 

“Point of order?” Tony held up a hand. “If I accept, I get my choice of weapons, right? As challenger?” 

“You do,” Lafsi said brightly. 

Loki turned to him red eyes wide. “What are you doing? Are you mad?” he hissed. 

“Then I accept,” Tony said brightly. “I, Tony Stark, challenge for the right to sit on the Iron Throne.” 

“And you, Loki, do you accept Iron Man's Challenge?” Lafsi said, practically rubbing his hands together. 

“I shall give you my answer tomorrow,” Loki said, every word as sharp as glass. He grabbed Tony's arm, teleporting them back to the Tower so fast it made Tony's ears ring. 

“Do you know what you've done?” Loki paced back and forth as Tony walked through the gantry to remove the suit. “Are you insane?” 

“Yes to the first; jury's still out on the second,” Tony said, hoping down and pulling Loki into a hug. 

“So,” Loki tipped his head. “Would you like to tell me why you just volunteered as tribute?” 

“To mess up their evil plans, of course,” Tony grinned. 

“Even though you have no idea what their plans are?” 

“Don't know, don't care,” Tony smirked. “Frigga said the Regents were bad news. And she was right. There's no way they're going to let you take the throne.” 

“So I noticed,” Loki shook his head, squinting his red eyes against the bright sun. “Until a king is crowned they hold all the power. Something they will never relinquish.” 

“Yeah, I wouldn't be so sure about that,” Tony said. “Jarvis, is Thor still here?” 

“Prince Thor is on the common floor with Agent Barton,” Jarvis said briskly. 

“Good,” Tony grinned “Tell them we're on our way down.” He grabbed Loki's hand, towing him toward the elevator. 

  


~ ~ ~ 

  


“OK,” Clint said, scratching his back with an arrow. “I get the first part. It's like that _Star Trek_ episode, “Amok Time?” If Loki wins, the Avengers come kick his ass for killing Tony, and if Tony wins he won't want the throne. But what if Tony had said no. Wouldn't they just pick someone else to fight?” 

“Nay,” Thor shook his head. “If Tony had refused the fight, it would have cast Loki in dishonor. The council would have declared him unworthy to sit on the throne.” 

“But you wanted me to say no!” Tony turned toward Loki. “I saw it. What the hell, snowflake? After your mother told us why it was so important you claim the throne?” 

“I would rather disappoint Mother than risk hurting you,” Loki shrugged. 

Tony swallowed hard. Yeah, they'd be talking about _that_ later. 

“Wait,” Clint frowned. “You lost me. So you guys _are_ going to fight?” 

“Please,” Tony shook his head. “Like I want to be king. I have enough paperwork in my life.” 

“As if you could best me in a fair fight,” Loki scoffed. 

“Oh, baby,” Tony kissed Loki's cheek. “When it comes to you I never fight fair.” 

Clint rolled his eyes. “So how did they know about Tony anyway?” 

“Ah,” Thor raised a hand. “I am sorry, brother. That was my fault. During Laufey's funeral, I may have mentioned how Iron Man defeated you at the Battle of Manhattan.” 

“And you just _happened_ to mention he was my consort?” Loki frowned. 

Thor rubbed a hand over the back of his head, ruffling his short hair. Tony had to admit it looked really good on him. Loki had certainly done _him_ the favor there. 

“It doesn't matter,” Tony sat up straighter. “And no – we're not going to fight. Not by their rules anyway. I've seen too much. I know what happens when Starks play by other people’s rules.” 

“Please, please,” Loki looked pained. “For the love of all that's holy. Do _**not**_ say ‘Winter is Coming’.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. Like he'd say it _now_. He just hoped he'd get an opportunity to say it later. 

“OK,” Tony rubbed his hands together. “Thor - we're going to need that last favor you owe Loki.” 

“Man of Iron,” Thor said gravely. “I would love to aid you in this battle. But as King of Asgard, I must remain neutral.” 

“Oh, we don't need you to _fight_. What we need is the Bifrost. OK, everyone listen up....” 

  


~ ~ ~ 

  


This time Loki teleported them straight into the area, right in front of the throne. 

And yep, Tony had been right. The Council wasn't fucking around. Gone were the spectators. Instead, the stands were packed with warriors. All armed to the teeth and looking ready to fight. 

Loki ignored them, keeping his eyes focused on Lafsi, who once again stood between Loki and the throne. 

“Iron Man,” Lafsi called. “What weapon have you chosen?” 

“That's easy,” Tony shrugged. “I chose... the Avengers.” 

Lafsi had about a second to look confused. And then he wasn't looking at anything, as an arrow had sprouted from his eye. 

He fell in a heap, dead on the floor. 

“Hear me!” Loki shouted. “Stand down and your lives will be spared!” 

The councilors stood and pointed at Tony and Loki. “Kill them!” “Kill them both.” 

A second later another councilor dropped, a neat bullet hole in his head. 

Tony only had a second to admire Barnes's handiwork before all hell broke loose and the giants in the stands charged them. 

Loki drew his daggers and Tony raised his hands, repulsors charged. 

After that it was just chaos. 

Arrows rained down from above, while Cap's shield whipped in and out, shattering ice weapons as it went. 

A huge roar sounded over the din of battle and every eye turned as the Hulk crashed through the doors, ripping them off their hinges. He threw them at the giants, following them with his fists. 

Tony crowded Loki back against the dais, dodging flying bodies and spinning debris. 

“So,” Tony called. “This is going well!” 

“Oh, yes,” Loki nodded, stabbing a giant in the neck. “I'm fairly sure this isn't what Lafsi expected.” 

“Well,” Tony shot a giant in the knee, bringing him down hard. “I figured why should we fight each other when-” 

The ground began to tremble with the sound of a freight train getting closer and closer. A massive ice-beast burst into the area, the biggest one Tony had ever seen. It looked like a house on legs. 

“Lini!” Lini!” the giants screamed. 

“Shit,” Tony swore, bringing up his hands. 

The ice-beast bellowed, its roar shaking the snow from the rafters. 

And then it started attacking the frost giants. 

“Wa-hooo!” Clint's voice came over the Comm. “Look what I found chained up in the basement!” 

Tony dropped his arms, watching Clint ride the beast like a cowboy at the rodeo. 

“Well, there's something you don't see every day,” Steve said ruefully over the Comm. 

“Hey, Cap!” Tony said brightly. “Welcome to my party!” 

“I heard you threw wild parties, Stark,” Barnes said. “But this isn't what I pictured.” 

“Oh, this is nothing,” Tony laughed. “You should have seen me in college.” 

A few minutes later and it was all over. The few remaining giants were on their knees, Steve and Barnes standing guard. 

Loki walked over to Lafsi's body and nudged it with his toe. “I hereby claim the throne and disband the Regency Council. You are relieved of your duty.” He over to Tony and grinned. “One must observe the formalities, you know.” 

“Mmhmm,” Tony nodded, distracted by the sight of the Hulk giving Lini tummy rubs. 

“Good Doggie!” Hulk grinned. “Hulk like Doggie! Hulk keep Doggie!” Lini nudged him with his towering fangs, and the Hulk obliged by petting his head. “Hulk name doggie George!” 

Clint jogged over, bow in hand, his cold weather-armor scuffed all to hell. 

“Oh, my God, Thor is going to be so sad he had to miss this. This was the best day ever! I got to ride the Bifrost! I got to ride a giant dog! I killed a buncha evil giants!” He pointed at Loki. “We are definitely even now!” 

“As long as you had fun, Barton,” Loki waved a hand. “ _That's_ the important thing.” 

Tony climbed the platform and stood next to the Throne. “Your majesty. It seems the throne is yours.” 

Loki walked up the stairs slowly. He stared at the throne for a moment before meeting Tony's eyes. A wave of magic washed over him and a red cape formed around his shoulders. A crown of ice materialized on his head. He brushed a pile of debris off the seat and sat gingerly on the throne. 

Tony moved in front of him and dropped to one knee. 

“All hail Loki! Rightful King of Jotunheim!” Tony called. 

Nothing happened. 

“Hey! Everybody! We need some hailing over here.” Tony turned to look over his shoulder. 

Everyone was at the far end of the arena, where Clint was plastered across Lini's head, trying to pull his bow out of the ice-dog's mouth. 

Loki got up and pulled Tony to his feet. “Somehow, when I imagined taking the throne, I never pictured this,” he deadpanned. 

“Hey!” Clint called over the Comms. “Can we keep him? I wanna keep him! Such a good doggy! Yes, you are! Yes, you are!” 

Lini swiped him with a massive tongue, knocking Clint clear off his feet. 

“OK,” Tony shrugged. “I'll buy the food. But _you're_ scooping up after him.” 

“ _That_ is a _monumentally_ stupid idea,” Loki drawled. “How do you feel about being my Chief Advisor?” 

Tony flipped up his faceplate, kicking up the suits heater to compensate. “Is that like being Hand to the King?” 

“If you like,” Loki nodded. 

“Oh, yeah,” Tony grinned, giving Loki a cheesy leer. “And I know just how to give the king a hand.” 

“You did look good on your knees,” Loki took a step closer. “Perhaps we should go home and put you on them again.” 

“Your wish is my command, Majesty,” Tony purred, running a hand down Loki's bare chest. These Jotun fashions really were amazing. 

“Shall we leave Clint in charge while we're gone?” Loki asked, pulling Tony closer. Much closer than he needed to teleport them. 

“See?” Tony poked him with a finger. “This is why people think you're evil.” 

“Let me show you just how evil I can be,” Loki smirked. He swung Tony into his arms, suit and all, and teleported them home. 

  


  
  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art Post: A Tale of Iron and Ice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19713532) by [Lets_call_me_Lily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lets_call_me_Lily/pseuds/Lets_call_me_Lily)




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